


Viewpoints

by Cloudnine101



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Awkwardness, Boys Being Boys, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Brothers, Crush at First Sight, Friendship, Heavy Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Teen Romance, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-01 22:32:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2790101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudnine101/pseuds/Cloudnine101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Who is that guy?" Dean finally manages to splutter out, after what seems like five minutes of choking.</p><p>"What guy?" Sam says, twisting in his seat. Dean waves his hand in the general direction of the door, where the student stands, looking more than a little uncomfortable.</p><p>"That one! Who is he?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean takes one look at the new student, and spits his coca-cola all over the lunch table. Sam stares at him oddly, whilst whacking his back with the force of a large truck. (Who says men can't do two things at once?)

"Who is that guy?" Dean finally manages to splutter out, after what seems like five minutes of choking.

"What guy?" Sam says, twisting in his seat. Dean waves his hand in the general direction of the door, where the student stands, looking more than a little uncomfortable.

"That one! Who is he?"

"Him?" Dean rolls his eyes, hands clenching into fists.

"No, moron, the other one in the doorway! Now spill!"

"How the Hell am I supposed to know? He's new, ain't he? Geez, Dean!" Sam gives him a look - and Dean goes back to staring. "What do you want to know for? Wanting to add members to your nerd band?"

"He's...he's...I think...oh God." Dean grips the edge of the table. "I think I'm in love, Sammy."

Sam rolls his eyes. "That would be the third time this week. Will you shut up and let me get back to my salad?"

"You shouldn't be eating that," Dean says, voice an echo of the snark it usually contains, "it's stupid." He doesn't look away from the new boy.

"C'mon, Dean, you're freaking me out. You didn't even stare at Naomi this much, and she was "the one"." Sam makes the appropriate air quotes around the final two words. Dean shoots him a short glare, and then returns to his obvious appraisal.

Sam casts an eye over the boy; he's tall, and nice-looking, he guesses. Sure, his stare's a bit intense, and he's dressed so smartly he looks like he's robbed a catwalk, but he can see why Dean likes him. This new guy's nothing special, but he's...interesting. Not fascinating, but interesting. If Sam was into dark 'n' weird, he'd probably like him.

As it is, his type can be summed up by two names: Gabriel and Lucifer. And no, there's absolutely nothing odd about that. Nothing at all. And if there happen to be two brothers in his class with biblical names, they're definitely not the same guys.

"I'm in love," Dean repeats, and then says: "I'm gonna go talk to him." Sam shrugs. "Whatever, man." Dean swallows, wipes his hands on his trousers, and says: "Do I look alright? I mean, am I OK? I don't have sauce on my face, do I?" Sam stares. "What?"

"You...you're asking me if you look OK." Dean frowns.

"So what if I am?"

"Dean," Sam says, very slowly, "you've never cared about that. Ever."

"Well, now I do."

"But...you don't."

"Well, I do. And if you've got a problem, you can-"

"Is this seat taken?"

Dean almost falls out of his chair, as Sam smirks up at the speaker. The object of Dean's affections runs a hand through his hair, smiling nervously, as he points to the chair opposite the boys. Meanwhile, Dean does an impressive impersonation of a goldfish.

"Nope," Sam replies, "I'm just heading out. Take the one beside Dean." And with that, he stands, and walks away, leaving his brother to gasp.

Some things, Sam knows, Dean can handle on his own. And sometimes, it's fun to watch his sibling squirm - even if Sam'll get his ass kicked for it later. 

Whoever said he was the perfect little brother?


	2. Chapter 2

The kid takes a seat, pulling out the chair with poise - and Dean hadn't thought that was possible, before, but now...now...now, things are different. And Sam, the assbutt, has abandoned him. Marooned him. Left him alone. With this...this...angel. This coal-haired, sapphire-eyed, deliciously muscled angel.

Dean gulps - and he doesn't dare look up, because seriously, how hot can one person be? He's going to have an attractiveness-induced heart attack, and slump to the floor, dead. Ruby had been hot. Naomi had been hot. Heck, even Jess had been fairly steamy, once he got past the whole 'perfect and blonde' act - and yeah, it was an act. Dean hasn't met anyone that flexible in a long time. But this guy...he's a real catch.

Normally, Dean doesn't go for brunettes (Naomi being the exception, although he's pretty sure that was dyed) - but this time, he's definitely making an exception. Perfectly mussed hair, divinely rumpled clothes, and red, red lips, moving-

"Are you quite alright?" Dean jerks in his seat - and damn, that's definitely not attractive - to find the angel frowning at him. "You look unwell."

"I - err - I-" Suddenly, it seems, there aren't enough words in the universe. The boy raises one perfect eyebrow, smirking like a pro - and Dean would definitely like to see some more of that, thank you very much, although preferably not directed at him. It's a little dazzling. Quite honestly, Dean would like to see more of all of him - he'd like to take him to Gaming Club, and buy him milkshakes at the canteen, and struggle through Physics homework with him, and-

Dean clamps his lips around his straw, and sucks, hard. Damn.

"Can I be of assistance, at all?"

And now, it appears, there's no air. Coke sprays from Dean's nose, flying all over the table, all over his shirt, and all over the new kid. The other boy doesn't move, for a moment, as the reality of the situation dawns on Dean.

"Oh, oh my God, man, I'm so sorry-" Scrambling for paper towels, Dean practically tumbles out of his chair, avoiding landing on his ass by inches. He has the vague sensation of the other boy smiling - it seems to pierce holes in his skin. Blushing an impressive shade of beetroot red, Dean wipes the table ineffectually, cursing everything from Sammy to the solar system under his breath.

Despite how hard he's cleaning, nothing seems to be happening - he's just getting the towels wetter and wetter, without actually solving the problem. He's acutely aware of the new kid, staring at him - and boy, must he look a massive moron right about now. The angel's probably gonna laugh, smite him from here to Texas, and probably hook up with Meg Masters for good measure. Dean wouldn't blame him - Masters was fun, and a whole lot cooler than he's being.

And then, quite suddenly, there's a hand on his wrist.

Dean's head whips up.

The new boy smiles at him once more, before deftly wiping a cloth through the mess, seemingly swiping it up in one fluid movement. Dean can only gape, awed, as his fellow student steps back.

"Is that better?" Dean nods, dumbly. The boy smiles. "My name is Castiel."

"Odd kinda name," Dean responds automatically. He receives a blank look in response. "Oh, err, Dean."

The boy smiles again - and really, he should do that all the time. "Nice to meet you, Dean."

"Nice to meet you too, Cas."


	3. Chapter 3

And then, just like that, Dean and Castiel are officially friends. They go to lessons together - hang out at break - eat lunch in the canteen. Castiel, as it turns out, is rather good at Physics - and at everything, for that matter. Maths, History, Geography - practically every subject under the sun. The one thing he especially excels at in Religious Education. It seems to sit well with him, somehow; Dean isn't quite sure why, but he doesn't really care. Everybody's got their strengths, right?

After Cas scores 99/100 on a notoriously difficult RE test, Dean plucks up the courage to ask him about it. Cas just shrugs, and says, with the smile that makes Dean's heart flutter: "I guess it's my thing." If it had been anyone else, Dean probably would've been riled up - but it was Cas, so it's OK. Besides, it meant he could actually answer the questions for once, due to their 'study sessions' (Castiel's name, not his) so nobody loses - apart from possibly Chuck, who has his 'lounge at the back of the class and stare at girls' buddy no longer.

The one thing Cas isn't so good at is PE.

"I - huff - don't see - wheeze - the - pant - point of it!" Castiel clutches at his knees, as Dean rubs his back consolingly, hoping that Cas thinks it's just a 'friend gesture' - because if the whole 'I like you' chestnut ever got out of the fire, he could be in a whole lotta pain.

"Hey, it's just a jog, Cas. We'll be back soon, and then I'll buy you a nice big bottle of water, alright?" Dean pats the other boy, trying to force down the tingling in his palm. "It'll be OK." Cas looks up at him, eyes pleading.

"Dean...couldn't we just-" Dean steps back, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Nuh-uh. I'm not doin' this again. Last time, you almost killed me!" Castiel sends him a blue-eyed stare. Dean visibly crumples, sighing heavily. "Fine. Fine. But when sir kicks your ass for not trying, don't blame me."

Castiel's smile is so wide, it almost takes over his face. With surprising speed for a supposedly exhausted boy, he's straightened out, and bounced behind Dean. Dean rolls his eyes, before bending his knees. "Hop on," he says, bracing himself, "we don't have all day." Clamping his hands around Dean's shoulders, Castiel jumps, sports vest flapping around his waist - grunting, Dean waits for the other boy's weight to settle on his back, before he stands.

"Good up there, bud?" He feels Castiel's affirmative nod - hands tighten around his shoulders. The day grows a lot warmer. "Here we go." Dean starts to walk, Cas jolting on his back, and decidedly doesn't sweat.

Back at school, the two boys skip Mr Singer's post-run pep-talk (Listen up, you idjits! I'd say you were good, but I'd be lyin'! My grandma can run faster than you sissies! Gabriel, get your hands off Sammy, and pay attention! The same goes for you, Lucifer!), and head straight for the changing rooms. Dean pulls of his vest, taking in lungfuls of oxygen, as Cas begins to untie his laces.

"What have you been eating, Cas, bricks?" From the ground, Castiel glowers, nudging Dean's kicked-off trainers into a corner.

"Only what my brothers have given me. Gabriel has a fondness for sweets, and insists on dishing them up every mealtime. I try to stop him, but-"

"OK, OK, I get it! I was just kidding! You look great, Cas." Dean turns away, hanging his vest on a peg, before heading towards the shower cubicles. There's no noise from below. Dean slides off the rest of his clothes, and slips into the shower, drawing the curtain across. From outside, there's a muffled noise; but with them shampoo in his ears, Dean can't hear it. Snapping the curtain aside, Dean peers around it, head sticking out.

"What?" The other boy looks at him - opens his mouth - and shuts it again.

"Nothing." Dean nods.

"Cool," he replies, and promptly returns to the heat of the water. If Castiel responds to the word, he doesn't notice it.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean isn't entirely sure what Sam has with Luce and Gabe. Really, it's a pretty messed-up relationship; he's not entirely sure who's dating who, except that there's definitely incest, and his brother's definitely caught up in the middle of it. However, seeing as they're Castiel's brothers, he's willing to let it slide - in return for one small favour.

"I just need you to get us alone together. Once. That's all I'm asking for. Please."

Gabriel taps his foot on the tiles, as Lucifer growls in the background: "Why should we help you?"

"You two are in a threesome with my brother. I'm not gonna encourage it...but I won't stop it, either. And I could. Sam listens to me."

Gabriel chews on his lip, considering the statement. Dean waits, heart in his throat. The brothers share a look; then, Gabriel leans in, studded lip gleaming in the electric light. "Normally, we wouldn't encourage darling Cassy associating with you...but this time, we'll make an exception."

"Your brother's butt is too good," Lucifer mutters, "we're weakening."

Dean throws his hands up. "Did not need to know that! Will you do it?"

Gabriel smirks, as he replies: "Yeah, Winchester, we'll help you. Our methods are...unorthodox, but you two will end up alone. Count on it."

And Dean doesn't like the sound of that at all - but before he can change his mind, the Novaks are retreating down the corridor, steps perfectly in time.

Nothing happens for two weeks.

During that time, Dean's constantly on edge; jumping under desks at bangs, darting behind lockers at thumps. When somebody drops their pencil case in a maths exam, he actually dives beneath the desk.

At break, Sam corners him. "Dude, what's wrong? You haven't been...yourself, recently." The back of Dean's neck turns cold.

"Myself? How can I have not been myself, Sammy? I'm the same guy I always was. I mean, sure, I'm a little more cautious now, but-"

"Dean, you screamed when Mr Singer told you to hurry up. That's not normal. That's manic behaviour."

"Manic behaviour?" Sam nods, sagely.

"I read up about in the library. Your ex helped...what was her name? The blonde librarian chick."

"Jess," Dean mutters, "and we don't talk about my past...interests."

"Ah," Sam replies, grinning, "because you're head over heels for Cas now, ri-hey!"

Dean drags Sam into a classroom, and slams the door shut. When it clicks, he relaxes temporarily, before hissing: "Keep your voice down! I don't need him hearing about that!"

"Well, forgive me if you're too chicken to tell him that you like him!" Sam steps away, his thunderous expression matching Dean's own.

"I am not too chicken!"

"Fine," Sam retorts, "go up to him, and tell him how you feel. No one's stopping you."

"I - I-" Dean flounders, at a loss for words. Sam's smile is indescribably smug.

"That's what I thought."

"It's just - he's just - too good for me, you know? And I go up in front of him, and I can barely string two words together!" Dean's arms wave in the air, as he speaks. Sam looks mildly sympathetic.

"Whatever, bro, you're being chicken. Tell him - otherwise you're gonna lose him. I know a lot of guys who want a piece of that."

The noise Dean makes can only be described as predatory.

Sam shrugs-

"Ahem."

Both brothers spin around-

And there, as if he's just teleported into the room, is Cas.

Dean blanches. "Cas."

"Dean." Castiel stares between them, blue eyes strangely cold - and he doesn't approach. This is weird. This isn't a good sign. "I can see I've interrupted something important...I'll go." And then he sweeps out, brushing Dean's shoulder as he passes. The door slams behind him. The brothers look at each other.

"Well," Dean says, choking on something he can't name, "I guess he doesn't like me, after all."


	5. Chapter 5

And then, just like that, Dean and Castiel aren't friends anymore. They don't wait for each other after lessons, or eat pie together in the canteen, or study in the library after school. Dean leaves classes early; finds excuses to skip lunch; retakes his seat beside Chuck, who hasn't changed a bit. There's no more staring up at the sky, and making cloud shapes; no more sharing drinks beneath desks in classes; no more movie-marathons; no more piggy-back rides to the changing rooms. It's gone.

The seat beside Castiel remains empty. 

Rumours spread, and circulate. Dean poured vinegar over Castiel's history project. Castiel made out with Sam behind the sheds. Gabriel and Lucifer are baying for Dean's blood. Castiel's moving to Hawaii. Dean, Sam, Castiel, Gabriel and Lucifer have incest-fuelled orgies. Dean doesn't listen - carries on laughing and chatting and being, on standby, the ache in his chest growing with every passing day. And if Sam looks at him sadly sometimes, when he thinks Dean can't see, then it doesn't matter one bit. 

And then the seat is filled. 

The new kid's name is Kevin Tran. He's skinny (like Cas), and likes baseball (like Cas), and actually enjoys RE (like Cas). They sit next to each other in lessons, and on field trips, and on the bleachers after school. And Dean watches - watches as Kevin borrows Castiel's books, and their hands brush together, and walk home after school, side by side. Dean watches, and can do nothing. 

One ordinary Tuesday morning, Dean's packing his bag, when Sam sidles up to him. "Hey, Dean...can you meet me in the biology lab, at first break?" 

Dean frowns. "Meet you? Why? You're not in trouble, are you? I swear, if it's Gabriel, I'm gonna-" 

"Hey, hey, chill, big bro. It's just...there's something I've got to tell you, alright? Something...important. So, err, yeah. Come." And, before Dean can argue, Sam flees. Dean bites his lip - and shrugs.

Whatever.

So, first break finds Dean in the Biology lab, peering at a paper model of the skeleton half-heartedly. He's been doing it for ten minutes - and seriously, where is Sam? This is taking too freaking long. Dean's got class to get to - and he's gonna have to get in early, if he wants to avoid Cast-

"Oh." 

Dean spins around, bag slamming against his back - and there, in the centre of the room, is-

"Cas?" 

"Oh...Dean." Castiel's face betrays no hint of emotion, apart from mild disappointment. Dean's stomach twists. "I didn't know you would be here. I should-" 

Stepping back, he turns to go, pulling at the door handle. 

It rattles. 

He pulls again, with more force. 

It doesn't move. 

"Sam," Dean breathes, "you son of a-" 

"It appears we are locked in," Castiel says, without looking away from the door, or taking his hand off the handle. Dean nods his assent, before remembering Cas can't see him.

"Yep. Trapped." When Dean sees Sam, he's definitely getting what's coming to him. Definitely. "So...err...What have you been doing?" And this, Dean thinks, is how far he has fallen - sunken to making small-talk with his own best friend. 

"Nothing," Castiel replies, "nothing at all." 

"Really? 'Cause it looks to me like you've been flirting with Kevin." The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. Dean fixes his eyes on the skeleton, and prays that he's not as red as he feels.

"What?" 

"Flirting. You know what that means, right?" Dean flinches, as he speaks - because that came out harsher than he wanted it to. Behind him, Castiel sucks in a breath. Outside, Dean's vaguely aware of squeals, and loud laughter.

"Just because I am...not up-to-date with your pop culture references, it doesn't mean that I'm an idiot." 

"Well, congratulations," Dean says, "and good luck with you and Tran. I mean, I wouldn't have had him down for your type, but-" The laughter reaches a crescendo - doors are slamming open. 

"What's that supposed to mean? Do you think I don't get attention, Dean?" And Dean knows that Castiel's hurt - can read it on every line of his face, every spasm in his jaw, every cloud in his eyes. There's more yelling, and a sharp thud. 

"What? No!" Dean turns back to Cas - and he's boiling over, burning up with pent-up emotions - and with one slip, he could let them all out. "You get too much goddamn attention, Cas!" 

"What?" Castiel says again.

"What do you mean, 'what'? Guys like you, Cas! Girls, too! You could have anyone you wanted - literally, anyone!" Dean throws his hands up. 

"I don't think that's the case, Dean-" 

"And I don't mind, you know? I think it's great that everyone under the sun wants to date you! Fantastic! Go ahead and bang every guy in school, Cas! See if I care!" 

Castiel's hands curl into fists, inside the sleeves of his trenchcoat. "I have not been 'banging' anyone. I...there is somebody I...admire, but they do not return my affections." 

"Err, newsflash, Cas: everyone returns your affections!" Dean moves across the room, fingers digging into his palms, so that they're face to face. "And I'm sure Kevin does, too! So why don't you just ask him out, and put me out of my friggin' misery!" 

"I'm not talking about Kevin!" Castiel shouts - really shouts - but Dean won't back down, can't back down. 

"Oh, really? Then who are you talking about, huh?" 

"I'm talking about you!"


	6. Chapter 6

Dean freezes.

Time stops.

Castiel grits his teeth.

"I am talking about you," Castiel repeats, more quietly, hands uncurling, "so, you see, I am correct. He does not return my feelings."

"What...what..." Dean's brain chooses that moment to short-circuit, leaving him high and dry, with a pounding heart, staring at the other boy-

"I am sorry, Dean. I did not wish to tell you in such a way. I know that there is someone you like, and I won't try to get in the way of that. I...I'm sorry. I will try the door-" Castiel yanks on the handle again - really, really pulls - and again, and again, and there's a blush staining his collar, and Dean can only stand there. Staring. "Damn it!" Cas yells, and kicks the wood.

"Hey! Hey, Cas, stop it!" Dean grabs Castiel's shoulder, pulling him away - and Castiel breaks out of his grip and faces him, eyes blazing.

"Why do you persist in making me feel this way?"

"Making you feel...what way?" Castiel makes a noise in the back of his throat.

"Like I'm...I'm...important! Like I matter! I don't, Dean! I'm the youngest brother! I'm the nerd! I'm the failure! I'm not going to go down in school history, or prank anyone, or make you happy! I'm no one! No one!" Castiel tugs at the roots of his hair, eyes flashing. "And you...you come up to me, with your smile and your words and your voice, and you...you make me feel so good! And I want to make you feel good, too, but I can't! I can't, Dean! I'm not like you!"

"Cas..." And suddenly, Dean realises that he's still got his hand on Castiel's shoulder, and they're actually pretty...well...close, and Cas is staring at him - perfect Cas, who always gets everything right, and has a face to die for, and no knowledge of Star Wars or Indiana Jones or Doctor Who, and likes to eat sweet popcorn with marmite, and he's just said that he likes him - likes - him-

Dean leans forward, and grabs Castiel's face, and kisses him.

For a second, nothing happens - and it's wet and hot and sloppy, and Dean's teeth are knocking together, and his lips are going in all the wrong places - but then Castiel's kissing back, with eagerness, tipping his head forwards, and digging his fingers into Dean's waist, warm against his skin - and Dean moans, tipping his head to the side, and plunges-

It's not the rose-tinted kiss Dean had pictured, in the quiet of his room. There are no cherubs, and no gardens, and no (when he's in a kinky mood) pouring rain. It's not perfect, by any means, and it hurts just a little too much to be ideal - but it's just as good, in its own way, and Dean's tingling all over, his body shaking, legs buckling - and he clings onto Cas, groaning against his mouth - and then they break apart, holding each other tightly, and Dean's pretty certain he's about to collapse - because damn, that was...was...indescribable.

"You...you...you're pretty damn good at that. You know that, right?"

In Dean's face, the older teen grins.

"Yes," he breathes, and surges back in.

The door flies open. "Winchester! Novak! I should've known it would be you!" Dean and Castiel separate, turning to find Mr Singer, looking as though Hell itself had descended upon Men of Letters High. "You two care to explain yourselves?"

"Err...well, um, you see," Dean says, reluctantly removing Castiel's hands from his hips, "you've really got my little brother to thank-"

"Don't pin this on Sam, or you'll be doin' push-ups 'til the end of time! Have you seen the damage?"

"What damage?" Castiel asks, stepping away from Dean slightly. Dean itches to reach across, and take his hand.

"Well, boys, you'd better take a look for yourself."

And Mr Singer reaches out, and pushes open the door to the lab.

Dean stares.

And stares.

"That," Castiel says, "is amazing."

Dean grins.


	7. Chapter 7

The front of the school is covered in sweets. Literally, covered. 

There are marshmallows stuck to the walls with chocolate; liquorice laces, tumbling from arches; skittles slide underfoot, intermingling with haribos and chocolate buttons and bounty bars. Sweets and chocolate fill every orafice; nothing has escaped. Even the band-stand is filled to the brim with whipped cream - a few younger students play in it, hurling handfulls at one another, swallowing it up in greedy gulps. 

"OK, Dean, you have five seconds." 

Dean turns back to Mr Singer. 

"Err...this wasn't us, sir. I know it sounds stupid, but we had no idea-" 

Mr Singer makes a sceptical noise. "I believe you, Dean, but I don't think the Principal's gonna." Dean pales - because he sure as dirt doesn't need to get suspended again. 

"Sir, I can vouch for Dean. We were together the whole time. When would he have had the opportunity to set this up?" Castiel draws his coat more tightly around him, eyes streaming from the chill wind. The scent of caramel hits Dean's nose, as a girl begins to screech with laughter. 

"It wasn't them, sir," comes another voice, "it was me." Dean looks around - and Sam smiles at him, smoothing down his hair self-consciously. "I did it." 

"Aww, Sammy, you can't take all the credit." Gabriel lounges against the wall, Lucifer at his side, and smirks. "Technically, this was my idea." Taking a step forward, he winds an arm around Sam's waist, tugging him in.

"Guys! You're gonna get in trouble!" Sam hisses, blushing from his head to his toes. 

"Hazard of the job," Lucifer grins. "And besides," he adds, more softly, "we get you." Behind Gabriel's back, Sam and Lucifer's hands meet. 

Dean mimes being sick, bending to one side. Castiel elbows him in the ribs. Dean scowls. "Hey! What?" 

"Your brother!" 

"What about him?" Castiel narrows his eyes. "Oh...oh, right...Sam, it's my fault. All mine." 

"No! What?" Sam snaps. "This was us!" 

"Nope, definitely me," Dean shoots back, looping an arm around Castiel's shoulders, "right, Cas?" 

"No, Dean, it wasn't!" 

"Play along, Cassy!" 

"Shut up, Dean!" 

"Stop bickering, both of you!" Mr Singer shouts. The boys fall silent. Mr Singer looks at each of the boys in turn - from Lucifer, to Sam, to Gabriel, to Castiel, and finally to Dean - and smiles. "Get outta here, idjits. I never saw you. Hey, Kevin! Get off Chuck! That is not an acceptable use for whipped cream!" 

Stomping off towards the band-stand, Bobby Singer doesn't look back. 

There's a hush - Dean and Sam don't drop eyes for a moment.

"Well," Gabriel says, "that was fun. I think we're going to take Mr Singer's advice - be seeing you." Forcing his hands through Sam and Lucifer's elbows, he steers them away. Sam hesitates, looking back over his shoulder, before shouting:

"Dean!" 

"Yeah?" 

Sam smiles - really smiles, full on, teeth gleaming. "Thanks." 

"You're welcome," Dean says, and grins. 

Beside him, there's a cough. 

"So," Castiel murmurs, head close to Dean's, "what do you want to do now?"

And Castiel's breath is on his face, and on his cheek, and everywhere - and Dean swallows. 

"I could think of something," Dean says, and Castiel smiles. 

Behind them, Sam looks back again, as Gabriel forces a handful of sweets into his mouth, some spilling onto his chin. Lucifer mutters something about acne, but Sam doesn't hear - he's too busy looking at the two boys kissing, locked together, blissful - and, for a moment, he thinks he sees them glow. 

Sam smiles, rests his head on Gabriel's shoulder, and turns away.

Some things his brother doesn't need any help with.


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey, Sammy."

"Hi. I heard you're going out with Cas?"

"Err, you saw." 

"Whatever. Look, Dean, congratulations. You two sure took long enough."

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind. Forget I said anything. Hey...I've got something to tell you, and it might...you know...freak you out a bit."

"Shoot. Go ahead. Nothing could bring me down today. Hey, do you want some of these gobstoppers? I got them from the sports field."

"Firstly, gross, and secondly, no. Err, Dean...do you like Lucifer?"

"Do I like Lucifer? Like, like-like him?"

"No, not like that. Um...right. Well..."

"Spit it out - I haven't got all day. Cas is taking me out later, and I've gotta get dressed. Do you think I look better in grey, or black? Maybe I should just go brown-"

"Lucifer proposed to me."

…

…

 "And I said yes."

…

…

…

"Damn."


End file.
